


Complicated Feelings [1] [RE-WRITE]

by akabanechey



Series: The Complicated Trilogy [1]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:51:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akabanechey/pseuds/akabanechey
Summary: feeling/ˈfiːlɪŋ/nounplural noun: feelings1. an emotional state or reaction.2. an idea or belief, especially a vague or irrational one.





	1. ïnförmätïön, dëtäïls, dësċrïptïön & dïsċläïmër

**ïnförmätïön**

This story was original posted on [animechey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/animechey/pseuds/animechey) on here, but I've decided to move all original works from there over to here.

 

**dëtäïls**

Hey everyone.

So, I've decided that I am going to completely re-write this series and its characters. I'm not sure as to how much I am going to change in the overall plot, but I know that I am going to be adding parts to the story.

This story was originally written when I was about fourteen or so, and was also, originally, a One Direction fanfiction. It was absolutely horrific and cringe worthy, and needs quite a lot of work done to it.

If anyone wants to help me out with this, I am more than happy to accept your help. If not, that's alright.

I plan on updating this whenever I have the time (due to my being in university now and life in general) and that means it's going to be quite sporadic due to also having other accounts I do publish on.

\- Chey xo -

 

**dësċrïptïön**

[RE-WRITING]

[BOOK ONE OF THE COMPLICATED SERIES]

 **AISLINN WAS BORN DISFIGURED** , and so was her twin brother, Ashton - her hands, and his feet. Disgusted, their father abandoned them and their mother, forcing them to live on the streets or in refuge shelters for the first several years of the twins' lives.

Taken in by a kind man, they grow up alongside his son, Harry, and his friends - Layne, Angel, Zeke, Nadia and Hayden. To tell the truth, it was rough in more ways than one, and it drove the twins to the edges of their sanity and health.

This is their complicated story...

Warning: Contains abuse, drug use, and mental health issues, as well as self-harm.

© Chey Eveleigh | 2016-2019

 

**dïsċläïmër**

No parts of this story are to be reproduced, distributed, duplicated, copied, modified or adapted, in any way without my direct permission. Any and all characters or incidents that are similar to any other stories are completely accidental and done inadvertently.

If you have any concerns about this, feel free to send me a message, or leave a comment.

© Chey Eveleigh 2019


	2. 00) τhε сαṡτ ï ïṃαģïṉε

**Aislinn |** **Lily Collins**

**Ashton |** **Daniel Sharman**

**Harry |** **Dylan O'Brien**

**Layne |** **Cody Christian**

**Angel |** **Katherine McNamara**

**Zeke |** **Jake Abel**

**Nadia |** **Ashley Benson**

 

**Hayden |** **Danielle Campbell**


	3. 01) ḋøṉ'τ ṡταɾτ τhε ραɾτÿ

**BEING WHO I AM** gets me in trouble quite a lot - as well as anyone involved with me in any way. Let's just say that, due to everything I've been through in my seventeen years of life, I don't exactly have the best reputation in my hometown. Then again, neither does my twin brother, Ashton, or my step-brother and his friends. To be quite honest, none of us really mind.

My brother and I had a rough childhood and upbringing, and it's through no fault of our own or our mother. Ashton and I were born disfigured. He has two extra toes - one on each foot - and I have two extra fingers of a similar idea. Due to this, our birth father abandoned us the first chance he got, forcing our mother to fend for herself on the streets - in a way that is degrading.

Our father came back a couple of times in mine and Ashton's childhood, and none of them were pleasant in any way, shape or form. They left us more broken than we were before he came back into our lives, and our mother's mental wellbeing began to cave in on itself every time she saw the after-effects of her ex-husband's re-appearance.

However, she began to get better after meeting the man who would become her husband, and our step-father, one of the nights she was out.

He wooed and courted our mother - made her feel special about herself again. Soon enough - not two years later actually - he proposed to her, and she said yes, finally giving herself and her children a safe place to live and prosper. While they never had any children together, they had both myself and Ashton, and his own son, Harry, to look after and raise together.

Go forward another handful of years - around three, I believe - and you'll find us living in America; away from Britain and all it holds. You see, the man our mother married, and his son, are American, while our mother and us are British. We were forced to adapt to American lifestyle with little knowledge of what was expected of us, and Harry, our step-brother, wasn't exactly helpful for the first several months.

Fast-forward a decade from when they met, and mine and Ashton's seventeenth birthday is a week passed, the highs of that day slowly fading, but not the high of this day. Despite our mother's begging and best attempts, her children fell to uncharted depths within their minds and sought out anything that could make them feel alive again. In this instance, that means drugs.

We don't use anything overly harmful like cocaine or heroin or anything of the sort. We're not that stupid to use that which will surely destroy us further than we already are, but, I do have to admit, we are stupid enough to use weed to lift ourselves up from our darkest depths. However, despite that, we're not stupid enough to over-do it - we do have our limits, after all.

You think you're all caught up?

Sorry to disappoint, but you're nowhere close. You'll catch up sooner or later though.

Currently, Ashton and I are in my room, his friend, Hayden, and my friend, Nadia, accompanying us, smoke lacing the air, and the smell of weed starting to drift under the door. We're giggling like school children at some stupid shit that Hayden did at school earlier, and, honestly, I don't think it'd be as funny as it is now if we weren't high - but what exactly can you do?

"You're a bloody troublemaker, Hayden," I snicker, pushing myself up off my bed, grinning down at the light-brown haired girl. She looks strange in plain clothes, and it makes me laugh more. "And you look like an idiot dressed like that."

The younger girl pokes out her tongue and giggles, tugging at her denim jacket. "Well, excuse me for having parents that think I look like some fucking wannabe goth slut when I dress how I want."

"I like it when you dress that way," Ashton pouts, hazel eyes burning with desire as they peer down through thick, black lashes at the youngest of us all. "Those short shorts and revealing tops; black clothes and dark makeup look hot on you, darling."

The blonde Nadia cackles watching the two, her leather jacket hanging off one shoulder, and one of her fishnet covered legs crossed over the other in front of her, cherry red boots glinting in the afternoon light. "You're a sucker for any girl with tight ass clothing, Ash. Unfortunately, that counts me out. Pity though. You look quite tasty."

"Back off, slut," I half tease, but with a growling undercurrent in my voice. "That's my little brother you're talking about there, and his girl's in the room."

As much as I love my friend, Nadia is one hell of a player - and a tease. She's been through at least twenty "boyfriends" and "girlfriends" in the past year - the most stable being the on again, off again fling she and I have to have a little fun. With her killer looks and slim body, the supermodel wannabe can get anyone and everything she desires - unlike the rest of us.

Ashton and Hayden blatantly ignore mine and Nadia's bickering, being too caught up in each other to care about everything going on around them. Watching them, a soft smile appears on my face, but it doesn't last for long as a destructive sadness and wistfulness blows it away, my skin beginning to itch and tingle in an all too familiar way.

Just as it reaches the breaking point, the door to my room opens and my long-time crush pokes his head in, blue eyes glimmering with amusement, and a signature smirk plastered on his face. It makes my stomach twist and curl, and shivers to traverse my body. On top of his killer looks, his American accent is to  _die for_. Don't get me wrong, I know the rest of my friends have the same accent, but it's just the way it sounds combined with his speech pattern that makes me feel weak in the knees.

I have never had the chance to tell him how I feel, and that's because he is my step-brother's boyfriend. Yeah, I know that I can tell him anyway, but I  _really_ don't want to make things awkward within our little friendship group. Just being around him and seeing him happy has been enough for me over the past several years, and I know that is something that's never going to change.

"Did my invitation get lost in the mail, Ash?" the cheeky male teases, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his firm chest. His dark t-shirt rises slightly and I can't help as my eyes linger on the revealed skin. "You know how I hate to be left out,  _love_."

I roll my eyes, leaning back and placing my hands on the mattress behind me, legs crossed and my shorts sliding further up my legs with my movements. "Don't tease me and my accent,  _dude_. I can do just the same - and many times better."

"Whatever you say, little Ash."

"Just because you're a senior doesn't mean you need to call me "little Ash," you bloody idiot." I straighten and stare him down, a smirk working its way from my face and into my voice. "And, concerning your so-called "invitation," it must have gotten lost."

Ashton laughs, arm around Hayden's lower back as he pulls the younger girl against him, and a smirk grows on Nadia's face.

Layne shakes his head and grins, standing up and allowing his shirt to fall back down, much to my distaste. "Whatever you say, Aislinn. Anyway, Helena asked me to let you "cool" stoners know that dinner's almost ready - and that she wants you presentable."


	4. 02) εṉτεɾ, τhε løṉģ-τεɾṃ сøυρlε

**HERE'S THE THING ABOUT** our little "group" - not one of us is the same.

Then again, in what world would anyone be? But, no, seriously, none of us are the same. The two people closest to being the same would be myself and Ashton, and that's only because we are twins and shared the same womb and all that shit.

Despite all of that, there are some actual "relationships" within our "group," and they're to be taken seriously if you know what's good for you. The longest relationship would have to be Angel and Zeke, with an astounding four years under their belts. Second place would probably go to Ashton and Hayden, with almost one-and-a-half years for theirs. Lastly, quite obviously, goes to Harry and Layne, with only several months to their names.

Currently sitting in the middle of the football field during our mutual free period - and Layne's weekly "skip period" - I find it easy to take in the different members of our group, and see how we all fit together like the jigsaw puzzle that we are. Even our looks are contrasting - not to mention our personalities.

Ashton's dark-blond hair and hazel eyes differ from my almost brunette hair and russet brown eyes, but not only in colour. His hair is curly where mine is wavy, and there has always been more light and life to his bright eyes where mine seem dark and lifeless quite a lot of the time. However, despite our differences in looks, our personalities are quite similar.

We're both caring and sympathetic and apathetic towards others, and we tend to see the good in people despite their shortcomings and faults. Don't get me wrong, it's not that we don't see their darkness - because we do, oh, how we can't help but see their darkness - but we try to focus more on the good so we can at least attempt to lighten our own darkness'. Other than that, we have similar tastes in music and clothing and style, as well as the same dark sense of humour and affinity for pranks and trouble-making.

Hayden, on the other hand, resembles me in a way, but also has similar features to Ashton - like her light hair and the warmth in her honey brown eyes. These similarities usually end up with her being thrown in as our triplet, much to our mutual amusement and annoyance. She's relatively short compared to us though, and her skin is a darker shade, and she can smile warmly without having terrors of the past seeping through.

She tends to be quite flamboyant and welcoming and bubbly; always smiling and laughing, but, don't mistake that for kindness. She can be cruel and vindictive when she needs to be - when she's standing up for any of her friends, her entire personality seems to do a complete 180. Her clothing style leans towards goth and emo and a bit of scene, much to the delight of Ashton and myself, but she doesn't classify herself as any of the above. As for humour, it's relatively normal, but not always entirely "sane" or safe for public.

The closest to her would be Zeke: the most controlled and quiet male within our group. With dirty-blond hair, the occasional stubble, strong build and muscles that could put anyone to shame, and baby blue eyes, he is the second most attractive male in our group. However, with him being quiet, it's hard to get to know the charming, warm and intelligent man beneath that exterior. Despite that, he can be harsh, cool and calculating when he needs to be, and is more protective than you'd expect.

His girlfriend, Angel, on the other hand, is quite the opposite to her name, and her boyfriend. Being a redhead, she's fiery and outspoken, and can be downright cold towards those she gets annoyed by. Her eyes are a strange grey-brown colour, and they hold many secrets of her past - some of which she has not even told Zeke. Clothing wise, she dresses simply - usually a pair of pants and a paint-splattered t-shirt - and her music taste leans more towards that of the late 1970's to early 2000's. To be honest, I find her to be quite a good listener and a brilliant friend - unlike Nadia.

The blonde is, quite frankly, the slut of the group. It's not that she sleeps around - although, that's what more than half the school believes - it's more so that she goes through partners like they're going out of fashion. With long blonde hair and chestnut brown eyes, and the body of a goddess, Nadia's the female Adonis of the group - and she knows that fact well. Despite her outward appearance, she's got a lot of depth to her emotionally and personality wise, but it's also all over the place, and relatively difficult to gather due to the sporadic changes she tends to have.

Harry, mine and Ashton's step-brother, is the more athletic of us. With dark chocolate brown eyes and matching chocolate hair, he looks to be younger than he actually is, and ends up causing quite a few problems when attempting to get into underage clubs (that still have an age limit of 16). All I can say about him is that he hides his muscles, is pale, and has dark moles scattered over his lanky body. Personality wise, he's kind of a mix of Ashton and Zeke, and that makes for interesting conversations when we've all had a few drinks, and maybe something to smoke - either drug or nicotine.

As for Layne, I could probably go on about him all day. Well, that's an exaggeration, but you get the point. With those sapphire eyes and brunette hair, and that  _bloody cheeky smirk_ , he is basically a modern-day Adonis - and the most attractive male in our group. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a man with blue eyes. His personality is, in one word, perfect: kind and charming and welcoming and overall cheeky, with just a hint of sarcastic.

"Your anniversary is coming up soon, right?" Hayden asks Angel and Zeke, her loud giddy voice breaking my from my analysing. "Four years is a long time to be together. I can only hope that Ashton and I stay together for as long as you two; you're relationship goals for sure."

"Why thank you, Hayden. That means so much to us," Angel laughs happily, and a warm, loving appearing on her lover's face at the words. "And, yeah, it's four years next week - the 14th. It's quite funny and cliché really. Valentine's Day."

I look at my twin and Hayden out the corner of my eye, and a smile twists my lips, but it's laced with a deep sadness. Truth be told, I know that I'll never find a relationship that's as loving and passionate as Angel's and Zeke's, or as playful as Ashton's and Hayden's, or even as warm as Harry's and Layne's, and that I'll never be able to go from person to person like Nadia does.

"Ash, you okay over there?" Harry asks, snapping me from my thoughts with a full body jerk. Meeting his brown eyes, I can see they're wide with shock, concern and confusion, and everyone else's are in similar states, Ashton's burning with something else on top of that. "You're crying."

My fingers brush against my face and I pull them away, staring down at my wet fingers with shock and horror. I never cry - in front of anyone anyway. Instantly, I scrub away the tears and plaster a smile on my face as I assure my friends and family, telling them that I'm alright and that I "got lost in my thoughts." However, Ashton doesn't believe my quick lie, giving me a look that tells me we'll be speaking later, and Layne's eyes linger on me, not quite sure as to if he can believe what I am saying.

I cover my shock at him practically seeing through my facade by shooting the male a reassuring smile, but even that barely deters him. The sapphire-eyed boy reluctantly turns back to his boyfriend, and I allow the fake smile to drop when no one is looking at me any longer.


	5. 03) lετ'ṡ јυṡτ ṡαÿ τhε ṉïģhτṃαɾεṡ αɾε τølεɾαвlε

**BITTERSWEET IS THE CLOSEST**  word anyone could use to describe mine and Ashton's life. It's defined as "arousing pleasure tinged with sadness or pain," and I do believe that it is a rather fitting analysis.

Yeah, I know. I probably sound real fucking angsty right now repeatedly going on about how "horrible" or "rough" our lives have been, but it's the bloody truth - so suck it up, princess. If I didn't tell you about how it was, you'd never understand why we are the way we are - or really anything about us for that matter, not that I'm really complaining about that though.

The horrors of our past have left untold and innumerable scars on both myself and Ashton; both physically, mentally and psychologically. Truth be told, those scars have re-opened a multitude of times since our mother married her current husband, and those wounds festered and bled for months on end with no reprieve from their pain and sadness, except for maybe that of our friends.

Nightmares are the product of the plethora of scars left on us, but they're distorted from that which truly happened. Ashton's tend to be more menacing and vindictive than he lets on, but we're certain that they're not as horrific and destructive as mine tend to be. However, due to their distortion of the past, they're more tolerable than you'd think.

"Ash," my twin calls softly, rapping his knuckles against my door frame and making me look over to him with red eyes and a blotchy face. His eyes sadden and he walks over, sitting beside me and gently pulling me into a hug, my face pressed against his chest and my arms around him, gripping at his dark shirt. "It's alright. Let it out. It's just me."

Despite Ashton's words, I can't find it within myself to cry in front of my twin - even knowing that he wouldn't judge me for doing so; for showing weakness. The tears refuse to fall from my eyes, but they continue to gather, blurring my vision to the state where I can't make out even the shapes in my room. My body continues to be plagued by my muscles spasming under my skin, making me twitch and appear to be almost convulsing in my brother's arms.

"Aislinn," the all-too-familiar American accented voice calls, making me shiver in my brother's hold. I know what he wants, but I'm not entirely sure if I can give it to him. "Where are you?"

Ashton snorts and turns his head to look at the bedroom door. "He's a bloody idiot for thinking you want anything to do with him right now, Ash. After all, it's partially his fault that you're like this."

I don't respond, knowing that my voice will crack if I try to speak, and that there is no way I can deny the words that have just slipped from my younger brother's lips. Layne has always been a reason for me to cry - knowing that there'll never be a time I can even  _confess_  my feelings to him, let alone being in a relationship with him other than it being platonic or familial. However, that's not the main reason for my current state, and Ashton knows that, but we keep our lips locked about our past when our friends are in the vicinity.

Hearing his footsteps pause, I look up from where my head is resting on my brother's chest to see Layne standing in the doorway, sapphire eyes full of worry and some other indiscernible emotions that make my stomach feel like it has dropped to the floor. Breathing in through my nose and making a sound that sounds like sniffling, I sit up and give him a weak, watery smile, feeling the tears accumulated in my eyes streak down my face as I blink.

"I'm alright, Layne," I assure the taller male as he almost staggers in and kneels in front of me, blue eyes burning. "Don't worry about me, alright? I promise that I'm alright."

Layne shakes his head. "But you're not, are you? I saw you earlier, at school, and now you've been crying again. Tell me what's wrong, Ash."

 My tongue darts out and wets my dry lips as a million thoughts flood my mind, accompanied by few good memories of my past. Swallowing down the saliva accumulated in my mouth, I shake my head and pull my hand free of his hold, fighting the burning desire within my being to keep hold of it and clutch it for dear life - as my lifeline; the one thing that would keep me tethered to this reality.

It's like a nightmare come true: Layne, kneeling before me, begging me to open up to him, and Ashton, arms around my body, calmly holding me back from doing something I will regret. Unlike my nightmares, I don't fight free from my twin's hold and throw myself into my step-brother's boyfriend's arms, and then spill all my secrets, only to be recoiled from and rejected - called a monster; a freak.

"I can't."

"You can't?" Layne exclaims, confused for a mere moment before understanding turns his bright eyes dark. "No. It's more like you won't." He rips himself up off the floor and steps backwards, away from Ashton and myself, eyes a dark, haunting mystery. "Why won't you open up to me, Aislinn? Why do you shut yourself away from  _everyone_  and then go cry yourself to sleep in a wallow of loneliness? What can you hope to achieve by being like this, huh? What can you want so badly that makes you recoil - flinch away - from me?"

Ashton surges to his feet, hazel eyes dark with rage as he stalks towards Layne, making the older boy back up slightly. "It's not just you, you bloody idiot! Ash doesn't trust  _anyone_  with what happened to her - what happened to  _us_. You need to learn the difference between when the fuck someone is doing something for personal gain, and when they're doing something for  _self-preservation_!"

Even I can't help the whole body flinch I experience when my twin shoves our step-brother's boyfriend stumbling towards my bedroom door, hazel eyes wild with barely bridled rage and protectiveness. Ashton's shoulders are hunched forward, his muscles taut, and hands balled into tight enough fists that his knuckles turn white from the pressure. As Layne attempts to diffuse the situation, I can only feel Ashton's rage worsening, making my body twitch in anticipation once again.

The moment Layne hesitantly steps forward, Ashton's fist goes flying towards him, my eyes widening in shock. It lands, sending the older male's head snapping to the side and his body stumbling back into the door frame. Jumping up from my bed, I take hold of Ashton's arm, holding it to my body as he goes to hit Layne again. Digging my nails in slightly, I blatantly ignore the curses coming from the older male and focus on my younger brother, forcing him backwards, near silent pleas leaving my lips.

"Ash, please," I breathe, using my entire body to drag my brother backwards, away from the man before us. "It's not worth it. Just let it go."

Muscles still taut, Ashton reluctantly allows me to pull him back. Eyes darting down to his bloodied fist, I feel my stomach churn at the sight of the vivacious substance, and I swallow down the acidic taste that floods my mouth. It's not from disgust or queasiness, but from fear that I feel this way, and it's quite overpowering. Sitting Ashton back on my bed, I stand in front of him and take hold of his face with one hand, forcing him to meet my eyes.

They're burning with undeniable disgust and wrath, and the warm hazel colour is nearly eclipsed by the darkness swimming in his eyes. "I'm fine, Aislinn."

My lips part in shock. He never calls me by my full name. "No, you're not. You just lost control again, little brother."

Ashton closes his eyes briefly, before letting out a long breath and looking back at me. "I'm sorry, Ash. I didn't mean to go that far, but what he said..."

I shake my head and release his face. "It's alright. What's done is done. Honestly, I'm just glad Hayden wasn't here to see this one."


	6. 04) ƒαсε τhε сøṉṡεσυεṉсεṡ

**AFTER WHAT HAPPENED EARLIER** , well, let's just say that it has brought us to a "group meeting."

Currently, we're all seated in the lounge room, and there's palpable tension surrounding the eight of us. Not to mention, there's an even worse tension layered over both Ashton and Layne - one with bruised knuckles and the other with a recently broken nose. Harry can't help himself; he keeps shooting glares at his older step-brother. Returning one of his glares with one of my own makes it his final glare, knowing better than to get on my bad side after a decade of living together.

"So, why the bloody hell are we doing this?" I sigh, chestnut eyes glancing at each person in the room. None of them meet my gaze. "Seriously? Not one of you can even  _look_  at me, let alone say something in the past  _ten minutes that we've been sitting here_!"

"Ash," Nadia murmurs, placing her hand on my sleeve-covered arm. "Calm down, hun. There's no need to get worked up about this."

"I know. Which is  _why_  I want to know why we're all sitting here, in dead silence, for something as ridiculous as my brother punching our step-brother's stupid boyfriend. I mean, I get that Ashton broke Layne's nose, but, he fucking deserved it in my opinion."

 _That_  gets a reaction.

Harry jumps to his feet and lets out a plethora of curses and exclamations as I lean back against the couch and place my hands behind my head, a smirk twisting my seemingly innocent face and amusement glinting in my dark eyes. Beside me, Ashton drops his head onto Hayden's shoulder and his own shoulders begin to shake with silent laughter, knowing that I did this on purpose. On my other side, Nadia snickers, covering it up as a cough, and, on Ashton's lap, Hayden refuses to hide her laughter, letting it fill the room and cut Harry's rant off.

The brunette takes in my delighted expression and relaxed body language and his eyes turn dark, anger bubbling up inside him. Instantly on high-alert at the waves rolling off his friend, Zeke slowly stands and moves in front of me, hand slamming against Harry's chest as the younger male surges forward. Layne half raises from his seat, but thinks better of it as Zeke's baby blue eyes dart to him, warning him not to try anything stupid or idiotic.

"Now that I have your attention, loves, how about we actually do something instead of sitting around like we're mourning or some shit?" I suggest, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees, and my chin on my folded hands, a sly smile gracing my face. When no one replies, I shrug. "Well, if we're not going to talk, let's go out."

Without waiting for any replies, I take hold of Nadia's hand and we waltz out of the room, a pep in our steps and anticipation flickering in our bloodstreams. Heading straight for my room, Nadia shuts the door behind us and I feel my stomach drop, still hating someone else closing the door after they've entered a room I'm in, but I force the feeling to the side and open my wardrobe. Walking up beside me, the blonde scans my clothes for a moment before pulling out multiple pieces of dark clothing and chucking them at me.

With a grin on my face, I walk into my shared ensuite, only to come face-to-face with Ashton and Hayden. She's putting her makeup on, and he's being a little shit, teasing her. Laughing at the sight, I place my clothes on the bench and strip off my current outfit, fighting the burning urge to hide away from them. However, Ashton knows the extent of my scarred body, and Hayden knows our story - after she and my twin were getting a little too excited and he took of his shirt, causing her to see and feel  _his_  scarred body. We told her almost everything after that, and she's stuck around.

Feeling Ashton's eyes on me, I look over to him as I tug on my black skinny jeans. "What're you looking at, you pervert?" I tease, making the couple crack a smile. "I'm your bloody sister."

"I'm just checking, Ash."

Pulling on the white tank top Nadia picked out, I give my twin a look. "Should I check you too, little brother? You're just as bad, and you know it."

"You can if you want. I won't stop you."

Placing the plaid shirt back on the bench, I walk over to Ashton, chestnut brown eyes flickering over all visible skin for any signs. Gripping the bottom of his shirt, he helps me lift it over his head before slowly turning to allow my analytical eyes to scour every inch of his well defined torso. Once his shirt is back on, I put my hands on my hips and pointedly glance down at his jeans, making Hayden snicker lightly at the flush that crosses my brother's face.

Undoing the belt, button and zipper, he tugs his blue jeans down to his ankles and shuffles around in another circle, the white lines shining in the false light. There are almost healed slices, but they're from the last time he lost himself and sought out a way to relieve himself of the pain he felt inside. As he pulls his pants back up, I cannot be one the judge; my body is just as harmed and bloodied as his own when I come to the same predicament. Truth be told, I have ones that are from earlier, but I've covered them.

As I go to pull on the black, white and grey plaid shirt, Ashton clears his throat, making me freeze. "How about you turn around and hold your arms out, Aislinn?"

Reluctantly I turn to face my younger twin and slowly stretch out my arms, not wanting to be here right now. His warm hands gently encompass my wrists, and his skilled, analytical eyes stare down at my inner arms, following the war-torn skin up and down, side-to-side, until they find what they're searching for - the raised skin that signifies a fresh mark. Closing his eyes, his fingers brush over several of the slices, and I have to fight a wince at the short sting of pain his featherlight touch brings.

"I'm sorry, Ashton," I murmur, eyes trained on the tiled floor. "I just..."

Ashton pulls me to his chest and holds me tightly. "You don't have to explain. I know why you lost control and sought comfort and relief like this. I'm not upset, Ash - I just wish you'd talked to me."


End file.
